Lesson of the Leaves

By the way, I'm not raking up my leaves. Nor am I going to mow over them to turn them into a finer mulch. 

To my surprise I have had neighbors bent out of shape by falling leaves. Once a neighbor directly behind me fussed at me about my leaves falling into her yard. Across her short wooden fence no less. The second, a neighbor on the other side of the street, worked himself up over his neighbors' leaves blowing into his yard. 

Of the first complainant I politely asked--if she really was going to rake them up--to kindly toss them back over into my yard. The look on her face was worth every leaf ever raked up in the history of leaf-raking. And, yes, she did dump the enormous load of leaves on my side of the fence. Great mulch for my shrub beds.

As for the second grumbler, I merely had to nod my head several times as he gestured and groused and even two or three times kicked at the ground. Then I proposed he mow over the leaves to feed the lawn and his handful of trees. His face? Like I suggested he ride his John Deere from South Carolina to the Pacific coast. Three days later 9 bags of leaves stacked at curbside. 

Now I am no fan of raking leaves as outdoor fun. Honestly, these days I am smugly self-satisfied to let nature do its seasonal thing and fertilize the trees and the yard in general.

But, here's the thing. How curious that my fellow human beings would get worked up with neighbors over an event clearly beyond human control. They're deciduous trees, their leaves are coming down. And I don't think the leaves conspiratorially catch the appropriate air currents to pile on a particular person's property.

Leaves falling happens.

So soothe your psyche. Chill. Lean into the breeze that carries the leaves hither and thither. 

Save your anger with others for some more egregious harm. Oh, like the neighbors leaving up Christmas decorations until St. Patrick's Day.

Go in peace, Sisters and Brothers.